Page 18 of An Invocation of Monsters

“Yes.” My wings fluttered a little in agitation. I did not want him to awaken her. I wanted to watch that soft, sleeping face. “But is she with the Hunter?”

Kiraxis let out a low hiss. “No, she cannot be. The Void trembles with joy at her presence.”

“They could be using her. Even evil can be beautiful.”

The Mlul’dra shook his head stubbornly, the tips of his fangs showing. “No. I refuse to accept that. Evil walks on silent feet. It does not snore.”

As though to corroborate his claim, Elle let out a low snorting groan, turning on her side, and the sight of her exposed side and gently curved hip sent another shudder of desire through me.

But as I watched, she shivered, frowning in her sleep.

Without thinking, I picked up a woven blanket from the end of the bed and draped it over her.

She curled her fingers around the edges of the blanket, the frown lines of her forehead smoothing out. Kiraxis let out a rumble, touching a lock of scarlet hair.

“Perhaps she is a mate,” he said hopefully. “I will make her my mate. I have been patient for many years.”

I let my gaze slide from the curve of her hip to the crown of thick red hair.

Hunter’s kin, or a creature of the Void?

She had helped me, healed me. She had no reason to offer me her aid.

She had overcome her fear enough to touch me.

“Maybe so. But I will watch her to be sure.” I met Kiraxis’ eyes. “The door is in danger. The Hunter must not be allowed through.”

He nodded, teeth flashing, but his claw curled possessively towards the sleeping woman.

As I slipped through the window, I found myself hoping that he was right.

That she was not kin to the Hunter, that she didn’t aid its plans.

That she had been sent here for us.

6

Elle

I opened my eyes to a rainbow-studded ceiling. What kind of messed-up dream had that been?

But I was wrapped in a knit blanket, which hadn’t been on me when I went to sleep, and my phone was smudged with dirt when I checked the time.

By the time I got to my boots, sitting by the door, caked with dirt and chalk, I understood that it hadn’t been a dream. A dead leaf fluttered out of my hair as I sank to my knees.

My breath rushed out of me like I’d been punched in the gut.

It had all been real. The circle, the moth-like being trapped in its center… even the dizzying rush of looking at his massive wings… all of it was real.

Time stood still as I internalized this, then I scrambled to my feet, lunging for the phone. I pulled up my texts to Juno, my fingers poised to fly over the keyboard—

And stopped.

What could I possibly tell her that would make any sense? If I told her I’d left the Lodge and wandered around a dark forest and had a whole conversation with the Mothman in the middle of the night, she’d come raging in here and have me committed.

If anyone would understand, she would, my inner voice whispered. Trust her.

I typed out the word Mothman, stared at it for a moment, then deleted it.

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